


Reaper

by Fandom_girl21



Series: Repentance Tour [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Angst, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Feels, God ships Destiel, Implied Destiel - Freeform, Protective Siblings, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_girl21/pseuds/Fandom_girl21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck revives an old friend and has to deal with the consequences of all his lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death & Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Horesmen and two Gods meet in a park.

Chuck sighs and looks over the meal again, pizza, soda, fries...

He mentality reconstructs him and with a snap of his fingers,

"Hello old friend."

Chuck turns and smiles.

"Hello Death. Would you like some food?"

Death blinks and gives a half-smile at the spread Chuck gestures to.

He sinks into the seat before looking up at Chuck and motioning for him to do the same. Chuck smiles and sits, he's starting to remember how to play this act. Though it's been awhile.

He opens his mouth and stops. He wants to change, to stop acting and be authentic. Isn't that what she accused him of? Being indifferent, being apathetic. He'd tried to say they were failures but she didn't buy it.

_"They're only failures because you try to be them, to understand. When they don't measure up you get bored and leave. If you go in thinking one thing they'll never measure up to your ideal."_

_"Yes but they have so much potential! And they waste it! On wars, on revenge! I know you've seen_ that _."_

_"Yes but so have you. How quickly could this whole thing have been avoided if we had just talked, tried to understand each other without lashing out?"_

He blinks. Pulls away.

_"Your point?"_

_"My point is you're selfish, you've been acting as how they depict God — invincible. Stop acting, start being authentic."_

He had left then. He needed time to calm down and not murder her.

"Something wrong?"

Chuck blinks and comes back to Death and their food.

The "no everything is fine" is on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't say it. He swore in his head.

_"You're ruining my act."_

_"Good. Now stop pretending."_

He sighs again,

"There's a reason I brought you back old friend, and it wasn't just for food."

Death nods,

"I assumed as much. So what is it? I'm guessing you won again right?"

Chuck rushes to correct him when he continues,

"I'm guessing you want me to be your confidant again."

He stills at that, this could be interesting. He reaches out, she's already waiting.

_"Listen."_

He says to her. She humors him.

"Well no, but it's something similar."

Death chuckles and nods.

"Do you remember those early days? When you couldn't even look at him without seeing her? When I had to stop you from killing him?"

Chuck mentally cringes. He didn't need to remember this. But it was proving a point... So he'd tolerate it for now.

"Haha yeah. Yeah Death saving a life. It's hilarious."

Death narrows his eyes,

"What's wrong?"

Chuck takes a risk, she could hurt him later.

"Nothing. I-just everything. I don't know."

"You miss her."

Chuck actually stills. Is that what this feeling was? It's been so long without her, and even when they were apart he'd been so distracted, so angry, he'd never let himself dwell on her long enough to to even contemplate on what her absence felt like.

He has an idea now, sending her a feeling of reassurance he cuts their connection. The effect is almost instantaneous. His hands grip into the arms of his chair. He feels off balance, like he's spinning.

He can feel himself quickly begin to compensate, bringing all his essence and attention to the room. Hyper aware of their surroundings. Of the other patrons thoughts, of Death's fork as it scrapes across the plate.

He catches himself in time. He connects back with her before he can fall into old habits. She doesn't tell him to not do that again. They both know he'd never dare do that a third time. It was too painful.

Chuck swallows,

"Yeah I miss her."

He tries to ignore his internal smile at her laugh.

_"Shut up."_

_"Aww my baby br—"_

_"I'm like three moments younger than you!"_

"Yes I know. It's why you did everything else."

Chuck blinks pulling away from her enough to look at Death incredulously,

"I'm sorry?"

Death gives him a look of exasperation.

"Your creation, your need to hide in it. I have brothers God, I know what's it like to be cut off from them."

Chuck inwardly cringes at the name and then again at her anger. It's like spikes.

_"Tell me you didn't lock him away."_

_"Shut. Up."_

"Okay fine yes. But you guys don't even talk."

"Neither do you two. But I don't need to talk to them to know how they are. War is in Sudan with Famine. Pestilence is currently at Costa Rica. They're happy to see me, well to know I'm back."

Chuck sighs and leans back in his chair. She's silent. She's pulling away. He holds on tighter.

_"It's a private conversation,"_

_"Don't leave."_

She doesn't. Though she does lace herself through him. Trying to get him to calm down. He eventually does.

"You seem distracted."

Chuck shrugs sipping at his coke,

_"Did you know that's poison?"_

She asks idly.

_"I told you not to watch the health channel. That it would get to you."_

_"It's still poison you're putting in your body."_

_"We don't have bodies."_

_"It's the principle."_

He rolls his eyes,

"What? You _are_  distracted."

Chuck stares at him for a second. Damn. He broke his cover. For the first time in billions of years, he broke his acting all over a conversation of soda.

_"I hate you."_

She's too busy laughing to hear him. Or maybe she did and doesn't care.

"I guess I am. I'm just surprised about your brothers."

Death shrugs,

"You shouldn't be. Though granted they're not a horribly destructive, amoral force, that seeks to wipe everything from existence. So we might get a long a little better than you two."

Chuck cringes inwardly and outwardly this time. Not even flinching as her anger courses through him. But that's all she did, get angry.

_"No pain?"_

He taunts.

_"Pay attention."_

He pulls away at that, not enough to really make a difference in the grand schemes of things. But between them it felt like a chasm.

"She's not— she wanted me to kill her."

He says softly, he hasn't brought this up to her. How her sheer pain rattled him. His sister, the one person who could put him in his place, the one entity in all of existence older than him. Who if he was being honest, he'd always thought as nearly invincible wanted him to kill her. Wanted to die because of something he had done. 

Death stills and puts his napkin down.

"And why didn't you?"

Chuck blinks, perhaps Death would know if the oldest thing in all of existence was dead. Maybe it was how dead things worked.

"I-I couldn't."

No that was a lie. No more lies. He couldn't do this anymore. He couldn't let himself keep being a hypocrite.

"That's a lie,"

Death raises an eyebrow, but he plows on. He needs to say this. He owes her this at the bare minimum.

"If I kill her, I die too. We're both needed alive for this all to stay."

He gestures around them,

"I'm assuming she didn't take it well?"

"She said she'd rather die a million times and murder me a million more before being caged again."

He debates if he should include what she said next, he reaches out only for him to be barred. She wasn't going to help him, she wanted to see what he would do next.

"She also asked why she should change if I haven't."

He was expecting sympathy, a nod at the least. Maybe a smile and a word of agreement at the most. He wasn't expecting one of his oldest friends to snort at him.

Death shrugged smiling now as he glares at him.

"What? She has a point. If I was a vindictive being — which I'm not — I'd say the same thing. But you don't owe me anything. You don't owe us or any of this world anything. You let us be created, let us thrive. I think that's enough."

He blinks at Death. Ignoring her, he asks the question she'd kill him for.

"So why does she expect me to act like I do? I created everything, I owe them nothing. If they want to survive or die its up to them. It's on them to change their fate, to choose their destiny."

Death leans back and shakes his head,

"She can ask that because she's your sister. She's your only real, true, family. That should count for something. It _does_ count for something in some circles I'm told."

They both smile at the reminder Winchesters, well he does. Death just grimaces. Right Dean did kill him. At least he's glad Death isn't vindictive. That would be a headache to go against him and his reapers.

"You're doing it again friend."

"What?"

"Getting distracted."

"Just thinking that I'm glad you're not the vindictive sort."

Death gives him a small smile,

"May I change our location God?"

Chuck nods, as they appear in a park. He tries to stifle a groan. Why does everyone like playgrounds? His sister, Dean, now Death. Honesty if he knew better he'd think it was a hint that they wanted more llittle creations running around.

"Why have you brought me here?"

He doesn't hide his annoyance. Death doesn't comment on it.

"Your creation is yours. Your experiment. Your story. They — humanity, angels are all simply puppets for you to use."

He doesn't hide his discomfort. The question is out before he can stop himself,

"What if I don't want them to be?"

Death gives him a long look,

"Change maybe? Show them that side of you. That's what they think they are to you, you know."

Oh he knows. Hears their prayers, their pleas, their damnations. Usually he can keep them at bay, ignore it like background chatter. But at that moment it comes full force. He grips the fabric of his jeans as their voices rise in volume and number.

He reaches out she doesn't help.

_"Figure out yourself."_

She seems to be saying. So he does. He shuts them off, turns and distracts himself. Points his attention on Death. Reaches into his head listening to his thoughts,

_"John, Joseph, Mary, Jose, Duncan, Ruth, Abigail, Shruti, Amara."_

Chuck's essence runs cold for a second until the next couple of names filter in,

_"Sam, Alexandra, Charles..."_

Chuck pulls himself out of Death's head. He sends her feelings of love, warmth, and gratitude to their connection. He seriously couldn't lose her. Not like that. He shudders, he didn't even know what he would do in that type of situation.

Her calm and gentleness surprises him for a moment.

_"We'll always be together, you know that."_

_"But at the end of time—"_

_"My darling little brother, only we can kill each other. Even when or if this all goes away we'll still be. We'll always be. We've both existed outside of time before, we can do it again. Don't let yourself get too drenched in your own story."_

He wants to go to her then. He wants to let her distract him, hold him. He wants nothing more than to be in her presence at the moment. But he forces himself to stay, he has a job to do.

_"I love you."_

He whispers softly, he never said it not really. Definitely not recently. She had been the one to say those type of things in the beginning when they first reconciled. He had agreed of course, made sure she knew he returned her sentiments with every fiber of his essence, but he'd never said it back.

This whole thing felt so new, yet so familiar it scared him sometimes. Drove him to being aloof, or to cling to her. She didn't seem to mind either behavior, was just content to explore and have him by her side again. How he wished his desires had been that simple.

He gives a resigned smile when he realizes she wasn't going to rush to correct him. Of course that had probably been one of the things she would have wished for in her dark moments. In her moments of hopelessness.

He turnes away from those thoughts, it was in the past. Even he couldn't go back and change it. All he could do was move forward. He decides to shift his attention outward to Death again. Which means he almost didn't hear her. She had waited. Of course she had. She must have sensed as he spiraled into himself.

_"I know."_

He couldn't hide his smile as he flickes his eyes to Death.

"You asked me to change right?"

"I said you should  _if_ you feel they don't see how you truly are."

"Do you?"

"See how you truly are? I don't know. Sometimes I think I do when you talk about her. Other times I can't tell if you're just acting, putting on a mask to hide."

He tries very hard to ignore her smirk.

"I don't always act."

Death looks at him dryly,

"You do. You must have to get the Winchesters to help you. They're not big fans as I'm sure your aware of."

He nods. Oh he knows.

"Okay with them yes, but do I do that with you? Do I act?"

"Not always. But enough for me to notice when you do it. It's always how you've been."

He stills at that,

"I have?"

Death nods, picking a piece of lint from his form.

"You acted as God, as their father, you acted human I'm sure when you walked among them you acted like you could relate to them, like you were their friend. I'm starting to think you've forgotten how to be you."

"And what is me if not God, a father, a friend?"

Death looks at him as if the answer is obvious.

"Her brother. It's the identity you've been trying to shed since the beginning. You played at God when that didn't work, you tried your hand at being a father, when that got too complicated you played at Human— it might be the only identity you sticked with the longest, or the one you've felt the most happiest as. Your guilt was as God, as their father. As a human you couldn't be held accountable any of that. As a human you were susceptible to the tides of fate."

He just stared at Death who shrugged,

"Am I wrong?"

"I—no. I just — when you put it like that it's all sounds kind of poetic actually."

They both chuckle at that,

_"I cannot be resisted."_

She quips.

 _"Apparently. Though I would like to point out the fact that it goes both ways._ "

She sighed in mock resignation.

"What do you mean "poetic"?"

Chuck finally beams at him, he rose extending his hand to help Death up, who promptly ignored it and just stared up at him.

"What did you do God?"

Chuck rolles his eyes,

"Call me Chuck. And I made peace with her."

Death rises at that,

"You what?"

A ounce of worry slips into his voice.

Chuck hurriedly shakes his head,

"She's not like that. I mean she destroyed my previous creations but she won't do it to this one. She actually thinks it's beautiful."

He can't keep out the pride from his voice, he's not even sure if he wants to.

Death stares at him,

"How can you be so sure?"

Chuck shrugges,

"She's not mad at the creation, she's mad at me. I apologized, promised I'd change. She accepted my apology and said she actually liked this. So..."

He shrugs again. Death doesn't look convinced.

"So just because you both had a heart to heart the fate of your creation is assured?"

Chuck blinks, he actually sounds angry.

"It's fine. She won't—"

"If she's even half as good an actor as you are, she could be tricking you and you'd never know it."

Chuck narrows his eyes, his essence crackles with power, not that Death can see it unless he wants him to. But he damn well will be able to sense it.

"While she is good at acting, she's not lying. I know her. She wouldn't do that."

"So your telling me she won't destroy this because you said you were sorry?"

Chuck mentally sighes, well it looks like he's going to have to tell Death everything. Take away his satisfaction that he didn't live to see the day he almost got to reap him.

"She tried to kill me, I was dying. We both were going to die. I told you were both needed alive for this all to be sustained didn't I? She saw the beauty, she had seen it awhile ago. She just didn't let herself appreciate it in her state of anger."

Death narrows his eyes,

"And now she does? Why? Because she almost died? Or you did? It seems all too sudden if you ask me."

"I'm not asking you. Your opinion doesn't matter to me."

He snaps before he can stop himself, he's not really mad at him. He's mad at himself, for allowing himself to lie, to spread falsehoods of his only kin.

"So then why am I here?"

"Because you are his friend, his confidant. He wanted to share the good news with you. Isn't he allowed to do so without you doubting it? Isn't he allowed to have one of his oldest friends share in his happiness first before tearing it all down?"

Chuck sighs and gives his sister a grateful smile. Death looks between them, his indifference giving way to actual shock.

"Death, Amara. Amara, Death - The first Horsemen."

She gives him a tight smile, his hand laces through hers running his thumb over her knuckles. She squeezes back. Good she wasn't mad, just done having him defend her. He inwardly laughed, Death had no idea what was waiting for him. The only thing his sister hated more than people saying things bad things about him was lies. _Especially_ lies about her.

Death lookes between them for a few long minutes. His eyes lingering on their joined hands more than once. Chuck supposed it seemed odd to someone who had only ever seen him receive affection never initiate it.

"You're real."

He says finally. She cocks an eyebrow clearly unimpressed.

"Yes, very."

Death closes his eyes for a few minutes. Only to open them and say,

"He says you won't destroy his creation."

"This version. I can't promise for future ones."

Chuck rolls his eyes,

Death narrows his eyes, clearly not up for jokes.

"Why should I believe you?"

She shrugs,

"Because it will make your job easier? Because it will save space in that brain of yours for more important things like names and giving orders? I don't know nor do I frankly care. Your belief or disbelief doesn't matter. The only opinion I care about is my brother's, you're irrelevant."

Death shrinks back stunned, clearly not used to be spoken to like that. He looks to Chuck seemingly for an explanation. Chuck only shrugs trying to appear apologetic when he really wasn't. Death might be his friend but as Death himself said, he didn't owe him anything.

"I wouldn't go so far as to say you're irrelevant—"

"I would."

"You don't know him."

"He's not helping make a case for me to do so."

They glare at each other briefly before they turn back to him. Which is when Death says with surprising amount of feeling,

"He's my friend. I've known him for a long time."

The "I care about him" and "I don't want him to get hurt by you again" are implied.

Amara's eyes narrow, her old jealously flaring up. He skims his essence against hers. Trying to show her that she has him, that she doesn't need to be jealous anymore. She just brushes him off. It seems to be about principle now.

"You might have known him for a long time, you might even have been his only confidant and friend. And for that I thank you, it must have been lonely for him in the beginning."

Chuck hates how easy she's able to sympathize with him.

_"It's not sympathy, it's pity. Now stop distracting me."_

_"No one asked you to listen to my thoughts."_

_"Do not take your anger out on me. I won't tell you again."_

She doesn't even flinch when his light stabs at her, sharp like the hottest sun.

_"How cute. I've always wanted a hot stone massage."_

She croons mockingly.

She's talking out loud before he can stab her again.

"But don't mistake time together for knowing him, for _understanding_ him. We've been together a long time."

"You've also been apart just as long."

Death points out, Chuck has to admire his calm. He's not rising to her bait. But then again maybe he's learned not to after being around him for so long.

"Yes we have. But we're siblings. We're family."

"I have siblings, even if I know them well I can't predict all their actions."

She gives him a pitying look,

"Well then you're not close are you? We might have been apart, we both might have changed, but we'll always understand each other."

Death still doesn't look convinced,

"To understand someone doesn't mean you can predict them."

She tilts her head appraising him, her thoughts hidden from Chuck now. So Chuck waits, she was always good at finding others weaknesses.

"Yes you're right."

She finally acquiesces.

"But it should count as something if we used to be so close we were one. It should count if I can — if we both can remember being so tightly wound around each other that we weren't able to distinguish our thoughts."

That gives Death pause for a moment, but only a moment before he says — as if placing the nail in the metaphorical coffin,

"Yes but you separated from each other, how or why staying irrelevant for the moment, the fact remains that you parted from each other."

Amara stares at him, blinking she gives an incredulous expression.

"We did. And? I'm assuming you have a point."

Death sighs. He speaks to her as if regarding a child,

"The point where you both were close has passed. How can you claim to know someone you aren't that close with anymore?"

Chuck's temper flared but Amara answered for him, amusement creeping into her voice.

"How could I not? He was a part of myself, I of him. We exist together, we always have, always will. To know him is to know myself."

Death looks between them, finally he extends his hand to Amara,

"It's nice to finally meet you Amara. I look forward to getting to know you."

She beams grasping his hand,

"And I you Death, I've heard much about you. The first question I was asked when I arrived was if I knew you."

Death rose an eyebrow,

"Oh? By Dean I'm presuming?"

She nods a fond smile on her face as she does so. Chuck really doesn't care who she loves, he just hopes it's not Dean for many reasons, one of the prominent ones having to do with a certain angel. And while he'd give them his blessing if it ever ends up happening, he does think the power dynamic between them would be too drastic for that relationship to ever even having a chance at working.

_"Becky."_

She reminds him slyly.

_"Shut up."_

"Yes Dean."

She confirms out loud.

"You seem fond of him."

"As do you, and I am."

"Hm, I would like to know that story."

"And I wouldn't mind telling it, among other things. It would be nice to talk to someone who is willing to see past my brother's lies."

Chuck rolls his eyes, Amara smirks at him.

"Your story sounds interesting, and I _would_ like to know the person he's been running from better. Perhaps you could tell me about one day over Pizza?"

Amara laughs and nods. Chuck pauses looking between them. Did Death just—? More importantly, did his sister actually _agree_?

Chuck looks at her but she's focusing on Death instead.

"I would love that. Though I haven't tried Pizza yet, my brother assures me it's good. However, as I've told him, if I'm going to try it I would like to try the authentic version first."

"I know many wonderful Pizza places in Italy. Some that even go back generations. I wouldn't mind at all showing you them, it's been a while since I've been to Italy anyway."

She smiles at him softy, demurely. Chuck breathes an internal sigh of relief. She's playing him. Thank himself.

_"You do realize this has literally nothing do with you right?"_

_"Stop policing me."_

She nudges his essence with hers playfully in answer.

"That sounds perfect. Do let one of us know when you are available."

Death nods and gives them both one last look before vanishing most likely to Sudan. War's been doing really well there. 

Chuck gives her a look as she pulls him toward the bench. They rearrange themselves letting each other's hands go. There's no need now, their essences are already doing it for them.

She turns to him from looking at the playground,

"What?"

"Why did you accept his invitation?"

She shrugs,

"He seems interesting. Besides he's the only other person who knows you. Well mostly knows you. And I'm assuming he won't pander like everyone else does?"

He smiles and nods.

"Yeah he doesn't have angles, he tells it like it is. One of the reasons I liked him."

She gives him a teasing smile,

"So he acted as your soundboard in my absence?"

He smirks and nods,

"Yeah you could say that."

She smiles and turns back to the children,

"Good. I'd like to know what he _really_ thinks of you habit for locking people up."

He rolls his eyes bumping their shoulders.

"It was one time."

"One time to many."

But she has a tiny hint of jest in her tone. Enough to lessen the constricted grip of guilt he has inside himself. He kisses her cheek in agreement and apology.

They both stay like that for a while. Content to watch as these innocent creatures pretend to be them if only for a few fleeting moments.


	2. Godly Fears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even Gods feel fear.

They sit on the park bench watching as the children laugh and play in the sand, when one falls to the ground pushed by their so called friend. The victim's mother already running toward them as they just realize they are hurt have the urge to cry.

"Do you ever wish we'd had someone older than us?"

He asks his chin in his palm.

"Like a older sibling? Or—"

"Like a parent. A mother or father."

She stays silent for a while, watching the children with him.

"I don't know, it's a new concept for me. I've never thought of it. Maybe? If only because our fights could have been avoided."

He nods in agreement.

"I sometimes think if we had a parent we never would have fought, I never would have wanted for — yearned for something more."

She stiffens, but he doesn't comfort her. She doesn't need his comfort or assurances, not anymore.

"Don't you ever think if we had a parent it might have been worse?"

Chuck looks at her,

"How so? I mean I imprisoned you, you tried to murder me... I don't see how it could have been any worse."

She looks away, her hands clutch at her dress. Chuck blinks and straightens to observe her better. Was she _nervous_? She has never been nervous to tell him anything. Ever.

He's about to reassure her that he won't get mad, that he won't overreact, when she finally speaks. Her voice so quiet he has to strain to hear.

"If we had someone, someone older, someone more powerful. What if they pitted us against each other? Favored one of us? What if—"

She swallows, she almost lookes like she physically can't get the words out,

"What if they were bad?"

Chuck blinks, opens his mouth but she speaks again.

"What if they do something and I couldn't protect you? What if they forced me to hurt you?"

Chuck pulls her to him then, momentarily lost for words. She's shaking.

"Why do you have such thoughts? For someone who said they never thought of these things, you have elaborate ideas of how things could go wrong."

She just shakes her head in disagreement. 

"I wasn't always there brother. I appeared as you did. I came into being. I— what if we do? What if they came back? What they're bad? What if they want to go back to when it was just them and not have us? What if—"

"Hush sister. Hush. Even if it was possible which I know it's not—"

"You can't know, even I only know so much. I don't know before my time."

"But you always said there was never a before you."

"There isn't, or wasn't. Unless I do not remember? You will reaped at the end of time, we both will. It is understood as fact. But if neither of us came up with idea who did? If we did not know that we could kill each other would we even understand the concept of death?"

Chuck blinks at her, trying to find away to stop her from panicking. He's never seen her like this. She'd always been the one to quell his fear over something or the other. Apparently he doesn't know everything about her, he holds her tighter. Tries to get her to become incorporeal so they could be closer. So he can calm her down better, be closer to her. She staunchly refuses, just continues shaking. She must have thoughts like these for a long while if she's this rattled.  
He swallows,

"I know it's my creation but humans know how to breath without me telling them. Know how to think and imagine without me having written it in their code—"

"But you created them, you shaped them. Why could we not be like them? Whose to say we are not?"

"There is only us, there is only ever been us. We are moments apart sister. If our "parent, creator" wanted to have us why give no instruction? Why have us hurt each other? Why not intervene?"

She hiccuped, her sobs slowing down. Their brief conversation about always being together no matter what echoing in their heads.

"What if it was a test?"

He was already shaking his head,

"How can there be a test if we do not know what the test is on? You said it yourself we exist outside of time, of any sphere of influence besides each other. We are immune to any and every other force. Don't let this creation play tricks with you. Remember you— we are above rules. We always have been. The rules old and new bend to us."

She chuckled, whipping her tears away.

"You still talk as if youre big."

"I am, when we are together. Before then it was all a sham. A game of pretend. You know the only thing I ever wanted was your approval."

He lays his forehead on her shoulder, she's relaxing now. He laces his essence through her, unspooling the knots of tension. He tries to warm her, to ground her. To remind her she is not alone, will never be again. Tries to keep her from spiraling into the memories of her prison.

"Please come back to me Sister. _Please_. You're stronger than this, you're stronger than anything I've ever known."

Slowly she winds her arms around him, her head turning to rest against his forehead. He feels as she places a gentle kiss there, her voice is so much more vulnerable than it ever was even during their worst fights, than it was during their last moment together. When he locked her up and turned away. It absolutely breaks him.

"I am strong alone,"

He keeps his anxiety at bay, it would be like her to brush him off. She's done it before, hid her vulnerability till she can talk to him without breaking. Till it was a distant pain.

"But I am stronger still when we are together."

She finishes, echoing his early words. They stay like that for a while — minutes, hours, days... He doesn't care. He let himself get lost in her. Let them become as close as they used to be. He'd rather spend the rest of their existence riddled and drowning in guilt than see her break like that again.

He would make sure it never happens again. He wouldn't make the mistake the Winchesters do. He refuses to adhere to the idea that if they pretend hard enough, ignore it well enough, kept busy long enough — the problem, the notion would ceasing be an issue.

If he's learned anything at all in their time apart it's that it's better to talk something to death than let it fester and grow till it's unimaginable. That approach only ends in violence, pain, and tears.  
She shifts, her voice still too soft. 

"What are you thinking? I can't tell. Don't worry, I won't break like that again."

She flinches as he winds around her corporeally and incorporeally tighter. She thinks she's not allowed to fall apart, that she has to be the strong one. He almost laughs, no wonder she felt connected to Dean.

"Sister if you understand nothing else about me now, understand this: I am still your brother. I still love you. Please don't shut me out, please don't keep me away from your thoughts. I can't—"

He swallows, this wasn't about him.

"I'll always be here for you. I know it will take a long time for you to understand and even then for you to believe it. But I assure you I love you and I'm here for you. I want to be your confidant if you'll let me."

She's quiet for a long time, her essence more or less back to normal.

"What else were you thinking?"

"I don't know—"

"Do not lie Brother, please? I can't stand it today."

He tries not to drown in the fresh wave of guilt.

"And for the love of you will you _stop_ feeling guilty? It's annoying."

He pulls away just enough to look at her incredulously in the eye. And all at once he hates how far apart they are, even if it is only by a couple inches.

She shrugs, giving him a tired smile.

"You're easy to read when you try not to be."

"That is the most convoluted thing you've ever said to me."

"Not really. You try so hard to hide your feelings from me it almost feels like you're screaming them instead."

She pauses and says with a shadow of a grin, 

"It also helps that you're in too much of an inner turmoil that you can't keep up your guard."

He nods distractedly, his gaze going to her lap. 

"I was thinking of ways that I could spend our existence convincing you out of this silly, little, idea of yours."

That earns him a laugh, but he's not done. They promised each other no secrets, no holding back. Though it seemed it was harder to put in practice what they preached.

He sighs, gripping the fabric of her dress. She doesn't reprind him. She must feel the urge to be as close as possible to him as he does with her. Besides, he knows even if she had tried to push him way he couldn't have let go.

Yes, they had both come to the understanding that there was more to everything than them. That there was a beauty, a _something_ in creation. Yet that didn't mean that they felt complete _because_ of it. They were complete _in spite_ of it. The creation and their bond  _ **were not**_ mutually exclusive.

Chuck swore in his head, his nails digging into the fabric, he was getting off track. He is only mildly surprised when she doesn't get angry. She really must want to know what's he's thinking.

 _"Or I know once you tell me you'll stop trying to rip apart my dress._ "

Chuck stills, they need each other. They rely on each other. While they can see the merit in something besides each other it doesn't mean their bond is diminished, that they cease being each other worlds — this is as much a statement of the obvious, as it a revelation for him. He's spent so long acting like he didn't need her, he never stopped to think what would happen if he could have both. After all he only created all of this to prove a point to _her_ , to get her to _understand_ , to get her _**approval**_.

"I thought that I'd rather spend the rest of our existence riddled and drowning in guilt than see you break like that again, especially knowing I'm the cause of it."

She reacts as he expects, pulling him close, trying to soothe away his guilt. But as if to prove the point that she's not something that is predictable she whispers,

"While I don't approve, I understand and I thank you for your efforts."

Chuck tries to swallow the sudden hysteria. He's at a loss for words for a long time. Finally he says,

"Thank for allowing me to say that, for allowing me to feel validated in my guilt. I know it's not easy for you — for either of us to admit. I'm glad your willing to see it my point of view."

"You saw it from mine. It's the least I could do."

_"I love you Sister."_

He says out loud and inside their bond.

_"I love you too Brother."_

She responds in the same manner and he knows as long as they were together there was nothing they couldn't overcome. That they were far stronger together than they ever were apart.


End file.
